


tectonics

by pendules



Series: captain³ [2]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-23
Updated: 2014-04-23
Packaged: 2018-01-20 12:07:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1509896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pendules/pseuds/pendules
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Originally posted in November, 2007.</p>
    </blockquote>





	tectonics

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Тектоника](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1510004) by [Ampaseh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ampaseh/pseuds/Ampaseh)



> Originally posted in November, 2007.

"You've grown up."

"What?"

"It's true."

Quietly: "I'm your captain, Stevie."

"I respect you."

(He never says, _yes, you are_ , never acknowledges it. He doesn't think he needs to. John doesn't know if _he_ needs it.)

"And there's nothing more than that?"

"No."

"Right."

 

Later, when he kisses the babies goodnight, meets Frank for a drink, and when he fucks him, he only thinks of that, of him.

 

There's a league game after the first call-up, but he should be used to this—it's happened before.  
(But there's something different.)

People always take this kind of thing for granted: just professionalism, mutual respect, compatriots, teammates—but it really has nothing to do with obligation at this point.

John thinks he'd feel differently about Stevie if they'd met for the first time that day in London in September when the cold was just becoming noticeable.

 

It would probably go like this.  
(For there are strangers, and a sharp, abrupt, jolt-like first meeting, like an earthquake, a sudden tremor that unclenches the floor from the foundation, and the earth would shift, and then realign—but something changes.   
And then, there's the other way: two people gradually becoming ingrained in each other's lives, a normal course of events, two plates sliding past slowly enough not to detect, natural as anything, as the way Stevie moves on his pitch, as how John smiles.   
They were never strangers.   
What he thinks of now is if they had the chance, what the jolt would be, sound, taste, feel like:)

Stevie would be quiet, and John would be awkward. (Stevie would be awkward if he wasn't so quiet.) John's never quiet. Stevie would get annoyed for a while, until he drank enough of his lager, and John asked a personal question he might have normally, when not under the influence, knocked someone's teeth out over.   
John's no good at insults either way.

They'd stumble upstairs (it's probably a hotel) with Stevie muttering things like "I thought Londoners were arrogant sons of bitches" or "does being this nice work for you? I mean, _really_."

 

Thing is: he is _too_ nice.   
Strangely, Stevie doesn't take advantage of that (yet). Maybe he does love him. Or more plausibly, he doesn't. He's playing a game.

 

Nice is safe. He doesn't like safe, sometimes. Sometimes, he wants to be three goals down before half-time in the final of the Champions League. That's definitely not safe.

Only Stevie can pull that one off, though. And Stevie's not safe either. 

 

Risk: _a hazard or dangerous chance._

They're in everything. Who is to know that he won't get run over by a bus the next time he steps out his house, that he won't end up on the wrong side of a bad tackle, tomorrow, or next week, and never play again...

Human nature, love of one's natural course in life, what they consider normalcy, and equilibrium, prevents one from usually thinking like this.

But this is another game: testing the waters, apprehensive, but excited. Wondering how hot, cold, shallow, or deep (enough to drown) it is. 

He drowns every time they're in the same room.

_Risk._

He goes for it, nevertheless.

(Stevie kisses back.)


End file.
